Echoes of the Breach

A week had passed since Nezu and Aizawa's visit. Shinji had spent those days preparing for the next step, though he wasn't entirely sure what that looked like. The doctors had reluctantly given Yu permission to take him to U.A., provided she kept a close eye on him and brought him back for further evaluations afterward. Shinji had mixed feelings about leaving the hospital, it was a strange, sterile kind of safe zone. Outside, the world felt... unpredictable. Dangerous.

Now, as they drove toward the prestigious school, Shinji sat in the passenger seat of Yu's car, staring out the window. His hands were clasped tightly in his lap, his right arm still stiff as ever.

The city rushed by in a blur, and for a moment, Shinji allowed himself to get lost in the motion. But then something shifted. The buildings, the cars, the people walking on the sidewalks, all of it began to look distorted. His vision blurred slightly, and he blinked rapidly, trying to clear it.

The sunlight caught the rearview mirror at just the wrong angle, flashing into his eyes, and suddenly it wasn't the city he saw anymore. It was the breach.

The car's hum transformed into the grinding metallic roars of Striker's systems. The shadows of buildings became looming Kaiju, their grotesque forms swaying as they advanced. His breath hitched as his chest constricted.

"Shinji?" Yu's voice cut through the haze, but it sounded distant, warped. "Hey, Shinji, are you okay?"

He didn't answer. His grip on his thigh tightened, his fingernails digging into the fabric of his pants. The seatbelt across his chest suddenly felt suffocating, like something wrapping around him, pinning him in place.

"Stop the car," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

"What?" Yu glanced at him briefly, worry flashing across her face.

"Stop the car!" he shouted, his voice breaking as he clawed at the seatbelt, his breathing coming in short, rapid bursts.

Yu's hands moved quickly to the wheel, her eyes scanning for a safe place to pull over. She eased the car onto the shoulder of the road and killed the engine.

Shinji had already unbuckled himself, throwing the seatbelt off as if it were burning him. He scrambled out of the car and stumbled a few feet away, his knees buckling as he leaned against a streetlight. His breaths came in harsh gasps, his head bowed as he struggled to ground himself.

Yu was at his side in an instant. She placed a steadying hand on his back, her touch firm but gentle. "Shinji, look at me. Breathe. In and out. Slowly, okay?"

He shook his head, his hands gripping the streetlight pole like it was the only thing keeping him upright. "I can't, Yu, it's…..it's back. I'm back. I can see it, feel it–"

"No, you're here," she interrupted, her voice calm but insistent. She stepped in front of him, forcing him to meet her gaze. "You're here with me. Look around. It's the city. Not the breach."

Shinji's eyes darted wildly, but as he focused on Yu's face, the terrifying images began to fade. The breach dissolved, the Kaiju disappeared, and the sounds of roars and grinding metal gave way to the hum of distant traffic.

"You're safe," Yu said softly, brushing his hair back from his damp forehead. "You're not there anymore. You're here."

Shinji sagged against the pole, his body trembling as the adrenaline ebbed away. "I... I thought I was over this," he murmured, his voice hollow.

"You've been through something unimaginable, Shinji," Yu said gently. "No one just gets over that. But you're trying, and that's what matters."

He nodded faintly, though shame still clouded his expression. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

"Don't apologize," Yu said firmly. "We'll take as much time as you need. We don't have to go today if you're not ready."

Shinji straightened, his breathing finally beginning to steady. He glanced at the car, then back at Yu. "No... I'll go. I have to."

"Are you sure?" she asked, searching his face.

He nodded again, his resolve weak but present. "I'll be fine. Just... don't let me zone out again, okay?"

Yu smiled softly and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Deal."

They returned to the car, and this time, Shinji kept his eyes on the dashboard, focusing on the numbers and lights to keep himself grounded. The rest of the drive was quiet, but the tension in the air had eased slightly.

When they finally pulled into the U.A. gates, Shinji's chest tightened again, but this time, it wasn't fear. It was something else. Something closer to hope.

The gates of U.A. High loomed ahead, the iconic symbol of hope and heroism standing tall against the morning sky. Shinji stared at it through the car window, his dark purple eyes reflecting a mixture of apprehension and determination.

Yu glanced at him as she parked the car. "Ready?" she asked, her tone gentle but encouraging.

He hesitated for a moment, running a hand through his dirty blond hair. It was longer than he liked, unkempt, and falling into his face. His fingers lingered on the strands as if trying to push away the parts of himself that still felt alien.

"As ready as I'll ever be," he replied quietly, his voice steady despite the storm of nerves beneath.

He stepped out of the car and adjusted his jacket awkwardly, trying to pull it tighter around his too-thin frame. Months of malnourishment and exertion had left him pale and gaunt, his build wiry instead of strong. Despite the faint color returning to his cheeks over the past weeks, he still looked like someone who had been to the edge of survival and clawed his way back.

His eyes-, those piercing dark purple eyes, were the most striking thing about him. They seemed too vivid against his pale skin, holding a haunted depth that spoke of the breach, the battles, and the burden he carried. They flicked over the school grounds, wary and observant, as though expecting danger to leap out at any moment.

Yu came around the car, falling into step beside him. She didn't say anything, but her steady presence was enough to keep him grounded. Together, they approached the main building, the sound of their footsteps echoing slightly in the quiet courtyard.

As they reached the entrance, the massive doors slid open with a soft hiss. Standing inside were Principal Nezu and Aizawa, their expressions unreadable but calm. Nezu's ever-present smile softened when he saw Shinji, and Aizawa gave a small nod of acknowledgment.

"Welcome to U.A.," Nezu said warmly, motioning for them to step inside. "We're glad you made it, Shinji."

Shinji nodded, his throat tightening slightly. He didn't trust himself to speak yet.

"This way," Aizawa said simply, leading them down a corridor.

The school's interior was bright and modern, the walls lined with posters of past heroes and their accomplishments. Shinji caught glimpses of himself in the reflective surfaces. His too-thin body, his stiff arm, his haunted eyes. and he had to fight the urge to look away.

"Once we've completed the tests, we'll go over the results and discuss how we can best support you," Nezu said as they walked. "No rush, no pressure. Today is just about observation and assessment."

Shinji nodded again, trying to ignore the weight of their attention. He couldn't shake the feeling that he didn't belong here, that this place, with its vibrant halls and its legacy of heroes, was too far removed from the breach, from the blood, from the person he'd become.

But Yu's steady hand on his back reminded him that he wasn't alone. Whatever lay ahead, he wouldn't face it by himself. And for now, that was enough.

The doors to U.A.'s main building shut behind them with a soft hiss, sealing Shinji inside a world he wasn't sure he was ready to face. The hallway stretched before him, bright and polished, its walls lined with posters of heroes and achievements that only deepened the weight in his chest.

Yu walked beside him, her steady presence a quiet anchor. She hadn't said much since they arrived, but she didn't need to. Her occasional glances in his direction said everything: I'm here. You're not alone.

Shinji followed Principal Nezu and Aizawa down the corridor, his dark purple eyes scanning his surroundings with a wariness he couldn't quite shake. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, trying to keep them from trembling.

He hated the way he looked, dirty blond hair that fell into his face no matter how many times he pushed it back, skin so pale it practically reflected the fluorescent lights and a body that still hadn't fully recovered from years of starvation and stress. His clothes hung awkwardly on his thin frame, as though they belonged to someone else entirely.

Even his right arm felt like a stranger's, heavy and sluggish, its movements uncoordinated and weak. The damage from being linked to Striker when the Jaeger's arm had been ripped away lingered, a cruel reminder of just how connected he'd been to the machine that had once been his salvation, and his prison.

"We'll start with a series of non-invasive tests," Nezu was saying, his voice warm and calm. "Just to better understand your quirk, your current abilities, and how we can support you."

Shinji barely nodded his mind elsewhere. Every step felt surreal like he was walking through someone else's life. Was this really happening? Could someone like him, someone with so much blood on his hands, and so many scars, really belong here?

"Shinji," Yu's voice cut softly through his thoughts, grounding him. He glanced at her, and she offered him a small, reassuring smile.

"You're doing fine," she said quietly.

He gave her a faint nod in return.

They turned a corner and entered a large room filled with advanced equipment. Shinji paused, his gaze sweeping over the space. Monitors, scanners, and machines he didn't recognize lined the walls, their sleek designs a stark contrast to the gritty, makeshift technology of the breach.

"This is where we'll begin," Nezu said, gesturing toward a chair surrounded by equipment. "We'll take it slow, and you can stop at any time if you feel uncomfortable."

Aizawa stood nearby, his gaze sharp but not unkind. "We're here to help, not to push you past your limits."

Shinji swallowed hard, hesitating for a moment before stepping forward. His movements were careful, almost hesitant, as though he were afraid to disturb the air around him. He sank into the chair, the cool metal sending a shiver up his spine.

Yu moved to stand close by, her presence a silent reassurance.

As the doctors and technicians began their work, attaching sensors and running preliminary scans, Shinji's gaze drifted to the corner of the room. For a moment, he thought he saw movement, just a flicker of something dark and familiar.

His breath hitched, and his chest tightened.

It wasn't real. It couldn't be real.

He blinked hard, and the corner was empty again.

Yu's hand rested on his shoulder, grounding him. "You okay?" she asked, her voice low enough that only he could hear.

"Yeah," he murmured, though his voice lacked conviction.

The tests continued, and Shinji focused on the steady rhythm of Yu's presence beside him, the quiet hum of the machines, and the faint sound of Nezu's voice explaining each step.

The testing was already a strain, pushing Shinji to the edges of his physical and emotional limits. He had barely spoken since they began, answering questions with curt nods or single-word replies. Nezu and Aizawa watched from the sidelines, their expressions unreadable as the technicians worked through their checklist. Yu stayed nearby, her quiet presence a lifeline he clung to, even if he couldn't admit it aloud.

"Alright, Shinji," a technician finally said, gesturing toward the center of the room. "We're ready to assess your quirk now. Please activate it and show us what you can."

Shinji hesitated, his throat tightening. He hadn't used his quirk willingly since returning. In the breach, it hadn't worked, he got used to surviving without it, an extension of his survival instinct rather than a choice. The thought of summoning Striker Eureka, his oldest companion in that abyss, sent a chill down his spine.

"I don't... I don't, I haven't used it since before…..i left" he muttered.

Nezu stepped closer, his small frame radiating a calm authority. "This is not about forcing you, Shinji," he said, his voice gentle. "This is about understanding. Whatever you can show us will be invaluable, not just for us, but for yourself. You're in a safe place now."

Yu's reassuring nod caught his eye. He swallowed hard and clenched his fists, reluctantly reaching for that part of himself he had buried. Closing his eyes, he drew in a deep breath, focusing on the energy that had once come so naturally.

The air around him seemed to shimmer, faint glowing lines tracing themselves in intricate patterns. Metal began to materialize around his body, forming piece by piece until he stood taller, encased in an armored suit. But what emerged wasn't what anyone had expected.

The sleek, agile Jaeger was unlike anything they had seen before. The armor gleamed a burnished orange-gold, its streamlined design built for speed and precision. Its smaller scale perfectly fit Shinji's frame, giving him the appearance of a walking colossus in miniature. The Jaeger was clearly different from Striker Eureka, not just in size, but in every detail.

The room fell silent, stunned.

"Saber Athena," Shinji said, his voice steady but laced with an undertone of unease. "That's what this one is called."

The room fell into a heavy silence, all eyes fixed on him. Yu furrowed her brow, her concern deepening as she took a cautious step forward.

"Saber Athena," Aizawa repeated, his tone carefully neutral. "We didn't even know you could summon something different... or at this size. Is this new?"

Shinji hesitated, his hand brushing against the glowing armor covering his arm. "No," he said slowly as if he was piecing the truth together himself. "Not the changing part It's always been there. I just… I never used it."

"Why now?" Yu asked softly, her voice carrying that protective edge only a sister could have.

Shinji's gaze dropped, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the question. "Striker deserves to rest," he murmured. "After the breach, after everything we went through… it's too much. Athena feels... different. Cleaner. Like it hasn't been touched by all that."

Before anyone could respond, the Jaeger's armor began to shimmer faintly, pulses of light running along its surface like ripples on water. Shinji stiffened, his breathing quickening as he tried to keep his composure.

"Shinji?" Yu's voice was sharp now, alarmed.

"I… I don't know what's happening," he muttered, his hands twitching as if they had a will of their own. The armor around him began to shift, parts retracting and reforming erratically. A faint hum filled the room, the vibrations sinking into their bones.

"Step back," Aizawa ordered, his scarf loosening as he prepared for the worst.

Shinji stumbled, clutching his head as a sharp pain shot through his temple. The hum grew louder, almost overwhelming, and the armor seemed to pulse in response. "It's not me!" he cried out, panic creeping into his voice. "I'm not doing this!"

The Jaeger's arm jerked upward on its own, fingers flexing unnaturally as if testing their range. Shinji's breaths turned ragged, his eyes wide with fear. "It's like… it's alive," he gasped.

Nezu stepped forward cautiously, his calm demeanor unwavering despite the chaos. "Shinji, focus on your breathing," he said evenly. "Try to center yourself. Whatever is happening, it's connected to you. You can control it."

Shinji clenched his jaw, forcing himself to take deep breaths. Slowly, the erratic shifting began to stabilize, the hum fading to a low thrum. The Jaeger's armor settled into place, though faint sparks of light still danced along its edges.

Yu was by his side in an instant, her hands steadying him. "Shinji, what was that?" she asked, her voice low but urgent.

"I… I don't know," he admitted, his face pale and drawn. "It's never done that before. It felt like… it had a mind of its own."

Aizawa's eyes narrowed as he lowered his scarf. "We'll need to investigate this further," he said. "If your quirk is evolving, we need to understand how and why. But for now, you're safe. Try to hold onto that."

Shinji nodded shakily, his gaze flickering between the faces around him. "I'll try," he whispered, though his trembling hands betrayed the storm still raging inside him.

Nezu nodded thoughtfully, his expression softening. "Thank you, Shinji. We've learned more than we could have hoped. Your quirk continues to surprise us."

Nezu observed Shinji closely, his sharp eyes analyzing every movement and reaction. He tilted his head thoughtfully before speaking.

"The reaction you experienced," Nezu began, his voice calm and steady, "was likely caused by the subconscious association between your quirk and fighting." He paused, watching Shinji's face as he processed the information. "Your quirk, your Jaegers, they were always linked to survival, fighting, killing, defending. When you activated your quirk, your mind was likely preparing for a battle, even though there was no immediate threat."

Shinji's brow furrowed as he absorbed Nezu's words, the weight of them sinking in. "So, it's like... my mind thinks it's in danger even when I'm not?"

Nezu nodded. "Exactly. Your quirk is a response to the need for defense, for combat. That's been your reality for so long. Even though you're no longer in the breach, your mind still associates the activation of your Jaeger with the intense stress and need to fight."

Yu glanced at Shinji, her expression soft but filled with concern. "So... he doesn't have control over it?"

Nezu gave her a reassuring look. "It's not that he lacks control. It's more that the mind-body connection between Shinji and his Jaeger is so deeply ingrained. It's an instinct now. One that's been honed over time, in life-or-death situations. But with time, training, and understanding of your own psyche, Shinji, you will learn how to differentiate between those situations and the ones where you don't need to fight."

Shinji nodded slowly, though there was still a hint of uncertainty in his eyes. "I guess it makes sense. But it doesn't make it easier," he muttered, his voice low and tinged with frustration.

Aizawa, who had been quietly observing, spoke up. "You'll need to take it one step at a time. Training will help you become more aware of the mental triggers and how to override them. But it's going to take time. You've lived through years of constant danger. It won't be a switch you can just flip."

Shinji looked at Aizawa, then back at Nezu, his gaze distant. "How do I even start? I can't undo what's already happened. The Jaegers, the blood, the constant fight for survival, it's all... ingrained in me. How do I move on from that?"

Nezu smiled softly, the warmth in his expression comforting yet firm. "By taking the first step, Shinji. Right here, right now. You've already come so far. And with the right support, with the right guidance, you can learn to live without the constant need to fight. To find peace, not through survival, but through living."

Yu placed a hand on his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "And you don't have to do it alone. We're all here with you, every step of the way."

Shinji swallowed hard, his eyes darting around the room before landing on Yu's. "Can I... can I try something else?" he asked, his voice shaky but determined.

Yu nodded, her eyes filled with concern but also hope. "Of course, Shinji. What do you need to try?"

Shinji hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "Can I... can I bring out another one?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

There was a moment of silence as everyone exchanged uncertain glances. Finally, Nezu nodded. "If you think it'll help, go ahead. Just remember, we're right here with you."

Shinji took another deep breath, focusing on the sensation of the Jaeger connection, willing himself to access the familiar armor. The air around him shimmered, and then he felt the familiar weight of the Jaeger's control armor settling over him.

"Shinji," Yu called her voice tight with tension.

Nezu stepped closer, his eyes wide with curiosity. "What's it called this time, Shinji?"

Shinji hesitated for a moment, then looked up at them, a half-smile on his face unseen through his visor. "Titan Redeemer," he said, his voice steady.

Shinji shrugged, testing the Jaeger's arms. "I guess my quirk is still figuring itself out," he said with a shrug. "But I can move my right arm now like it's... part of the suit."

Nezu nodded slowly. "That's impressive, Shinji. You're clearly tapping into something here. Just keep that focus, and we can keep pushing forward."

Shinji flexed his fingers, his gaze determined. "One step at a time," he repeated.

The Jaeger he piloted, a smaller version of Titan Redeemer, was a formidable figure despite its height. Standing at only 8 feet tall, The Jaeger's armor is rugged and utilitarian, composed of multiple overlapping plates that gave it a bulky, protective appearance. The green hue of the armor is reminiscent of a military camo pattern, The Jaeger's head is small and streamlined compared to the massive bulk of its body, giving it an almost insect-like appearance. It sits low on the shoulders, partially recessed to protect it from direct attacks.

The right hand had been replaced with a serrated morning star, a brutal weapon forged from a twisted mass of metal. The massive spiked ball was mounted directly onto the arm, its jagged teeth designed for ripping through armor and obliterating obstacles with raw, devastating force. Without the need for a chain, the morning star was swung with mechanical precision and crushing speed, turning the Jaeger into an unstoppable force in close combat. Its sheer weight and destructive design made every strike a terrifying, earth-shaking blow.

Shinji tested the weight of the weapon, swinging it in slow, deliberate arcs. Each movement felt unnervingly natural, the morning star almost an extension of his own arm. But as the swings grew wider and heavier, a familiar, chaotic pull began to seep into his mind. The hum of the Breach echoed in his thoughts, faint at first, then rising like a tide, threatening to drown him.

"I can feel my arm," he muttered, his voice trembling as cracks formed in his focus. The weapon seemed to take on a will of its own, pulling harder, faster, until the swings became erratic. His breaths came in sharp gasps, his vision dimming as the lines between reality and the Breach blurred together.

Shinji tested the weight of the weapon, swinging it in slow, deliberate arcs. Each movement felt natural, almost too natural, as though the morning star was an extension of his body. But as the swings grew wider, something began to stir deep inside, a raw, unrelenting instinct that clawed its way to the surface.

His breathing quickened, and his stance shifted. His muscles tensed, his body moving as if preparing for battle. His vision blurred, the present fading into the shadows of a war he thought he'd left behind. The hum of the weapon wasn't just a sound; it was a trigger, pulling him back to the endless fights, and the unyielding pressure to survive.

Shinji's heart pounded as his mind spiraled. The weapon swung again, faster this time, his arm responding without thought. His knees bent, his shoulders squared, he wasn't in the room anymore. He was in the field, the Breach yawning before him, the enemy looming in the distance. His breaths became short and sharp, his pulse a hammer against his ribs.

"No," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Not again…" But his body refused to listen. His grip tightened further, his mind locking into battle mode, every nerve on edge. His hands moved on their own, the weight of the weapon familiar, comforting, yet suffocating.

He froze. His chest tightened, and for a moment, he couldn't move. His mind was stuck, reliving the chaos, trapped in a memory that had no end. His vision tunneled, his ears ringing with phantom alarms, and his entire body trembled as he stood there, unable to distinguish the past from the present.

And then, something cracked through the haze, a faint reminder of where he was, of what was real. Gritting his teeth, Shinji forced his fingers to loosen their grip. "Stop!" he shouted, his voice shaking. He yanked his arm back, his entire body trembling as he fought against the instincts threatening to overwhelm him.

The weapon fell silent, the hum vanishing as he shut down his quirk. The room came back into focus, the shadows of the past retreating but not disappearing entirely. He stumbled back, clutching his arm as though anchoring himself to reality, his breaths ragged and uneven.

Shinji's eyes fixed on the weapon, now motionless on the ground. His hands were still shaking, his body drenched in sweat. "I can't keep doing this," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I'm not there anymore… I'm not there." But even as he said the words, the echoes of the past refused to fade, lingering just out of reach.

With a final, desperate push, Shinji willed himself back, turning off his quirk with a sharp mental snap. His body shifted back to its human form, the transformation reversing in a cascade of cracks and shudders. The weapon fell inert, clattering to his side, and he stumbled backward, clutching his arm as if anchoring himself to the present.

His breaths were ragged, his eyes wide with lingering panic as he stared at the motionless weapon. Sweat dripped from his brow, but the pull of the Breach was gone, for now.

"I can't keep doing this," he whispered hoarsely, his voice shaking. "I can't let it take me... not again."

Nezu nodded again, a thoughtful expression on his face. "That's a significant step forward, Shinji. It seems your quirk is adapting, integrating new elements as you push through the limitations."

Yu smiled, her eyes still wide with amazement. "You're doing it, Shinji," she said softly. "You're really doing it."

Shinji took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside him. The weight of his past wasn't something he could shake off in a day. But the idea of moving forward, of finding a new path, was something he hadn't allowed himself to consider in years. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't impossible.